


carve your heart into mine

by Pixeled



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marlene forever braiding Vincent’s hair, Reeve is totally a matchmaker in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21725392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/pseuds/Pixeled
Summary: “What are you doing here anyway?” Cloud asked. He was curious. Vincent had been holed up in Kalm refusing to get involved in things. Said it was too political a time. Cloud got that. It was why he hadn’t joined the WRO, choosing a more simple life. Reeve’s intentions were good, and he was a good commissioner, but Cloud just didn’t want to get involved either.“Reeve has a job for me,” he said simply. “Said it was important. He might have begged.” There was an odd sort of twinkle of mischief in those crimson eyes that Cloud had never seen before. It made his heart clench.
Relationships: Cloud Strife/Vincent Valentine
Comments: 8
Kudos: 127





	carve your heart into mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butteredbandits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butteredbandits/gifts).



> To “Until It Hurts” by Francisca Hall

Cloud pressed the backs of his glove-clad hands to his eyes and pressed until he saw stars blossom behind his eyes.

He was tried.

No, he wasn’t just tired. He was exhausted.

He pulled off the gloves and rubbed his eyes. When he was done he peered out into the night. Grey shapes of things came into view, the people looking stark like they were ringed by halos. It felt like he’d always seen the world at night this way, but he knew that wasn’t true. There was a time, before being doused with mako in Hojo’s lab, when he couldn’t see in the dark, when the long night terrified him.

Edge was still in a state of building. The city was as big as Midgar with half the people. Many had died during Meteorfall. Still more had died because of the symptoms of geostigma. These were troubling times.

Cloud was working himself ragged trying to provide for Tifa and the others. Especially Denzel. Cloud didn’t want to let him down, and yet these were lean times. Even the delivery service felt it.

They did their best.

Their best wasn’t good enough.

He returned to the apartment building he and his best friend occupied along with the kids and Barret. It was above _Seventh Heaven_. Cloud considered getting good and drunk and sleeping off this nagging feeling, but it would take a while to get drunk with his sort of enhanced metabolism and he didn’t have the patience. So he moved up into the shared kitchen.

He didn’t expect to see Vincent there, sipping coffee casually as Marlene was braiding his hair, scooted up close to him on a stool with the seriousness of a little hairdresser.

Cloud laughed despite the bone weary feeling in his body.

“Cloud!” Marlene cheered, wrapping a pink bow around the end of Vincent’s new braid.

“Nice braid, Marlene,” Cloud said, amused.

“It is adequate,” Vincent agreed. Another sip of his coffee, this time longer. His Adam’s apple bobbed under his cowl. Cloud tried not to stare. He didn’t know what it was about Vincent that made his heart leap up into his throat other than the fact that he was Vincent fucking Valentine. They were similar in a lot of ways. People thought they were cold and uncaring on the surface, but when you got to know them, you found out they loved fiercely, protected their loved ones with their very lives. They were both quiet. Together, they were the least talkative people on Gaia, but they just _got_ each other.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Cloud asked. He was curious. Vincent had been holed up in Kalm refusing to get involved in things. Said it was too political a time. Cloud got that. It was why he hadn’t joined the WRO, choosing a more simple life. Reeve’s intentions were good, and he was a good commissioner, but Cloud just didn’t want to get involved either.

“Reeve has a job for me,” he said simply. “Said it was important. He might have begged.” There was an odd sort of twinkle of mischief in those crimson eyes that Cloud had never seen before. It made his heart clench.

“Uh, okay,” Cloud said dumbly. _Smooth, Strife_ , he thought miserably. “But what are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d ask you to come along,” Vincent said, shrugging. “We could kill a few monsters and make some gil like the old times.”

“I thought you were retired or something,” Cloud mumbled.

“Vincent is cool!” Marlene said excitedly, climbing under his cloak and giggling. “You can’t see me!” Her little shoes were peaking out at the bottom of the shredded ends of the gunman’s cloak, though.

“Sure can’t,” Cloud said, smiling.

“Where did Marlene go?” Vincent asked, playing along.

“I’ll come out if you go with Vincent,” Marlene said from behind the cloak.

 _Damn_ , Cloud thought. _What the hell_?

“I’ll go, I’ll go,” Cloud said. “I promise. Just. Give me back Marlene.”

“Here I am!” Marlene cried excitedly, pulling the cloak away from her little body and hugging Vincent.

Several hours later they were making camp. It was getting dark. Vincent refused to tell him where they were going, which meant that it was a place he would rather not be and would not have agreed to if the man had just outright told him.

By the second day, he knew they were going to Nibelheim, which was a place both of them didn’t want to be in. Reeve knew it, too.

“Reeve better give us a _lot_ of gil for this,” Cloud grumbled.

“I see you’ve figured it out,” Vincent said, poking at the fire with a stick, making the embers glow. Being on the road with Vincent was nice. Their silences weren’t awkward and Cloud felt comfortable around him. They had both experienced trauma and pain.

“Isn’t the town abandoned?” Cloud asked.

“Overrun by monsters, apparently,” Vincent said.

“And Reeve cares because?”

Vincent shrugged. “Wasn’t interested.” Cloud was struck by how similar they were in that moment. Though he got the distinct feeling that Vincent _did_ know.

“I guess we’re going to Nibelheim, then,” Cloud said.

That night he stared at Vincent huddled in his cloak, his face relaxed in sleep, and had thoughts about kissing him awake and confessing his feelings. Only, he didn’t know what those feelings were. They were a jumble of confused wanting.

In the morning he pretended he hadn’t been up all night staring at Vincent. Vincent at least slept like a dead man, which Cloud supposed he was.

It didn’t take them long to get to Nibelheim after that.

It was indeed overrun by monsters.

Vincent was deadly and accurate with his shots, and Cloud didn’t have to work as hard as he normally did, which was nice. After they’d cleared the area, he caught the sight of the red cloak Vincent wore heading in the direction of the mansion. Cloud turned his head. That’s exactly where he was going. He ran to catch up just in time to see Vincent unbolt the front door and step inside.

Cloud’s heart was pounding now. Vincent seemed cool and collected about the whole thing like he didn’t get tortured in there or spend thirty years sleeping in a coffin Hojo had led him to and closed the lid. Cloud didn’t know how he did it, why or how he was so strong.

For Cloud, he had spent four years in that mansion and that four years had been enough. He couldn’t imagine another twenty-six years on top of it. And Vincent may have shouldered his burden well, but Cloud knew how withdrawn he was because of it. There was one time when they were sitting next to each other and their shoulders touched accidentally. Vincent had reacted like he had been burned by the simple touch and it hadn’t even been skin to skin.

Blessedly, Cloud could only remember hazy terror, never full details. He remembered his worry for Zack, the way he always felt like he’d drown in the mako. He always held his breath until the very last second before he couldn’t any longer and the mako filled his lungs. He remembered the feeling of the needle injecting his vein and the mako searing through him. He remembered Hojo’s high delighted laugh and his bitter disappointment cutting through his mental fog. That’s all he remembered.

Vincent turned to Cloud, who hadn’t moved and stood wild-eyed and frozen to his place.

“Memories?” Vincent asked, tilting his head.

“Waking nightmares,” Cloud whispered. He knew Vincent would understand. They weren’t just flashbacks.

“You don’t have to come in,” Vincent said. “Can take care of it on my own.” Cloud wouldn’t do that, though—leave Vincent to struggle with his personal demons while monsters attacked him. No, Cloud was going in with him.

“I have to,” Cloud said, turning his chin up defiantly and then they were going in.

Though the mansion was abandoned and occupied mostly by spiders (so many cobwebs) and wayward monsters, it looked almost ageless.

Cloud thought it wasn’t so bad until they started clearing out the basement. That’s when he started to feel sick.

Vincent noticed. He approached like Cloud was a type of wild animal, easily spooked. Cloud saw him approaching and yet didn’t at the same time. He was splitting off, retreating into his own headspace. He still did that when the thoughts got bad. And they were bad now.

Vincent shook him, but it was no use. His eyes stared ahead blankly, unseeing.

Cloud didn’t know when he passed out. All he knew was that he was catatonic one moment and the other he was in a warm bed, his shoes removed. There was a warm glow in the room cast by a series of lanterns. He remembered he was with Vincent and he felt his cheeks grow warm as he sat up. There, across from him in an armchair was Vincent Valentine, his head dropped into his chest, eyes closed, apparently asleep. Cloud took the opportunity to stare at him. His lashes were long and thick, casting delicate shadows on his cheeks in the lantern light. His jawline was strong, his cheekbones hollow. Then Cloud realized he wasn’t wearing his signature cloak. He looked down. It was tucked around his own legs and torso in place of a blanket. Without the cloak Vincent appeared much leaner.

When Cloud shifted in the bed, Vincent’s eyes popped open and he caught Cloud staring. Vincent’s eyes locked with Cloud’s and for a moment Cloud didn’t breathe.

“You passed out in the mansion,” Vincent explained to break the silence.

“Gathered that. You brought me here? Where I am I?”

“Chocobo ranch somewhere near Edge,” Vincent explained.

“You carried me this whole way?” Cloud asked, honestly shocked. Sure, Vincent was taller than Cloud, but he was skinny where Cloud was all compact muscle.

“Mm. You’re heavy, Strife.”

“Sorry,” Cloud said sheepishly. “For being a burden at the absolutely worst time.”

“You weren’t a burden,” Vincent shrugged. “Honestly it was good to have someone to worry about—to take my mind off the kind of things that happened in there.”

“You seemed so level-headed in there. I wish I had been,” Cloud whispered.

“I’ll get you something to eat. The couple that own this ranch said they have a stew going over the hearth and that was a while ago. I’ll go see if it’s still warm.” Vincent left the room silently.

When Vincent came back, it was with a tray. A glass of water and a big bowl of steaming stew. The smell made Cloud’s stomach growl and he sat up, shifting Vincent’s cloak off of him. The tray was settled over his lap and he began to eat, peering over at Vincent curiously.

“You’re not gonna eat?” Cloud asked.

“Don’t need to,” Vincent shrugged. Cloud suddenly realized he’d never seen Vincent eat.

“So are the rumors true? You’re a vampire? You don’t need to eat because you drink human blood?” Cloud didn’t really believe it, but he’d been surprised by many things in his life.

“Of course not,” Vincent said, seeming affronted. “I’m just. Well, I’m dead. I don’t need to eat to sustain myself.”

“Yeah, but would have been nice to eat with you,” Cloud said, tucking back into the stew gratefully. It was warm and good. The meat fell apart in his mouth, practically melting on his tongue.

“I apologize. Next time.” Vincent collapsed into the armchair again and peered at Cloud, watching him eat.

“The job done?” Cloud asked. He wondered if Vincent had dispatched the remaining monsters.

“The job is done,” Vincent confirmed. “Wasn’t that hard, and we’ll get a tidy sum of gil. Got what Reeve wanted. Memory stick. Not sure it was worth it for you, though.”

“You did most of the work. It’s you I should thank.”

He sensed that Vincent was going to go away, then. Retreat to Kalm. He didn’t want him to go just yet, but he didn’t know how to just say it. Saying it would be admitting, in part, his desperation when it came to Vincent, the part of his brain that had memorized his rare smiles and played them on loop.

“What?” Vincent asked. Fuck. Cloud had been staring.

“Nothing,” Cloud said, his voice a low whisper. _Real smooth_.

“I keep catching you staring. Am I so hideous?” There was a hint of amusement, but perhaps sadness too.

“Vincent. Fuck. No, you’re probably the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. Like, it’s not even fair how beautiful you are.” Cloud realized after he said it, though, that he couldn’t take it back.

Vincent looked so surprised that Cloud wished he could take it back. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin what he had with Vincent. A kindred spirit? A quiet soul that matched his? God, why did Cloud ruin everything whenever he spoke? This is why he stayed quiet. He looked at Vincent miserably, waiting for him to shoot him down politely, quietly, as was his way. But Vincent didn’t do that. No, instead of doing what Cloud expected, he smiled.

“Eat your food,” he said.

Cloud expected it to end at that—that Vincent had dismissed the whole thing neatly. But when Cloud finished his food, Vincent came over and set the tray aside, sitting beside him.

“I’ve wanted to admit my feelings for a long time,” Vincent whispered. He leaned in close to Cloud and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was hesitant, but perfect. Vincent was afraid to ruin things too, he realized. But nothing could ruin this moment for Cloud. He had wanted this for a long time too.

“Tell me,” Cloud whispered, parting the kiss. He didn’t want this moment to shatter.

“That first night we spent sitting up together talking by the fire while everyone slept. I felt myself falling for you then. I felt . . . like maybe I didn’t deserve it, but I wanted you.”

“Gods, Vincent. Me too. It all started that night for me, too.”

Vincent’s lips were on his again and they kissed like sweet fire. Cloud felt like he was dreaming. He’d always thought Vincent was stuck in his past, his thoughts always on Lucrecia, but this proved to him that he had let some forgiveness into his heart.

Cloud, for his part, had let some forgiveness into his too. Aerith and Zack would have wanted him to be happy, right? It was hard. But he wanted Vincent and had for a long time.

Soon the kisses turned more heated. Vincent tasted good and so right. Cloud wanted more very fast.

“Tell me you want me,” Vincent said softly. “I want to hear it.” It was as if he could read Cloud’s thoughts.

“I want you,” Cloud said, and at that honest admission, Vincent pressed Cloud down into the bed, kissing down his neck in a sweet arc. His fingers, glove-clad, skirted up Cloud’s sweater and Cloud felt himself groan and seek friction. Vincent pressed the length of his body against Cloud’s and suddenly Cloud wished they both didn’t wear so many clothes. He didn’t want to even think about how many buckles Vincent needed to open to reveal himself, and yet that was the only thing on his mind. He reached up to start undoing the buckles of Vincent’s shirt, but shock suddenly bloomed over Cloud’s face when Vincent’s clawed hand shot out and wrapped tightly around Cloud’s, talons so hard against his skin that he felt the bones grind together. He winced. Vincent had a hell of a grip.

“You’re hurting me,” Cloud whispered. Vincent’s golden hand moved away and suddenly Cloud’s hand dropped. He stroked at his wrist gingerly. “I take it you don’t want to take off any clothes.” Vincent shook his head hard. So that was a no on getting to see what was under those black clothes. Pity. He had wanted to rip everything off Vincent, feel his skin beneath, crawl inside him where he would fit. But it seemed like he’d ruined the moment. Vincent had moved away from Cloud and he was trembling like a leaf.

“What is it?” Cloud asked, whispering it as if asking at full volume would shatter Vincent like the stem of a wine glass, delicate. But Vincent was no delicate thing. No. Cloud had seen him on the battlefield—knew exactly what he was capable of. He knew the beast was inside him—the beast of battle, and besides that, monsters and a literal ancient demon.

“Cloud. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“I’m not sorry,” Cloud said. “I wanted you to. And I want to do it again. I want all of you, Vincent.”

“I can’t. I don’t . . . deserve it. I was a fool to think I might.”

“I don’t think you’re a fool, but I think you’re wrong. You suffered long enough. I’m here. We both want this. Please.” It was exactly what Cloud needed—the cleansing fire of Vincent’s mouth. So he moved forward and tugged Vincent’s glove off, easing his off as well. And then he felt it, the warmth of Vincent’s skin. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Cold perhaps? Vincent was technically dead, and yet he was more alive than the man himself was willing to admit.

Vincent slid his fingers against Cloud’s, his eyes dark crimson and unreadable. Cloud curled his fingers, fit them inside Vincent’s, and kissed him again, this time more demandingly. “You’re mine,” it read. Vincent kissed back slow at first, but then he was kissing with fire, and that fire swelled around them. Cloud shifted and then Vincent was on top of him. They moved together fluidly, and soon Vincent was removing Cloud’s sweater, his pants, and once Cloud was naked, he looked over his body greedily, his eyes drinking him in.

They moved against one another and Vincent opened the buckles on his belts, extracted his length. He moved so it slid along Cloud’s and they ground their hips together heatedly, passionately. Cloud wished he could see Vincent, touch him, but whatever he got, he would take, drink it up until he couldn’t take it anymore, like a greedy animal wanting to be filled up until it hurt.

He wanted to carve his heart into Vincent’s so Vincent always knew who was a part of him.

They moved until they stopped, spasmed against one another. The taste of blood was in Cloud’s mouth. He’d bit Vincent’s lip. So he could bleed. Vincent didn’t seem to mind. His eyes darkened and shifted yellow for a moment. The demon inside was always waiting, always wanting. And yet Cloud knew it was all Vincent who wanted that pain, who loved it.

When it was over, Vincent tucked himself back into his pants, told Cloud to rest up. Now it was Cloud’s turn to grab Vincent’s wrist.

“Tell me this isn’t the end,” Cloud said desperately, tugging him closer.

“Get some sleep, Cloud,” Vincent said. Damn it, that wasn’t an answer. But he didn’t push it when Vincent snuffed out the fire in the lanterns, but not the fire in Cloud’s heart. No, that still burned for Vincent, and always would.


End file.
